


Literally, how.

by MarquessBrie



Category: Villainous (Cartoon)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blood, Bondage, F/F, F/M, Gore, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Magic, Mind Control, Multi, Polyamory, Psychological Torture, Sex, Shapeshifting, Soul Sex, Telepathy, Tentacle Sex, Unplanned Pregnancy, Unplanned goddamn everything, Violence, Vore, soul vore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-25
Updated: 2017-10-25
Packaged: 2019-01-23 02:02:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12496004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarquessBrie/pseuds/MarquessBrie
Summary: Black Hat is a young eldritch abomination, fresh off his first world conquering he's hopped universes looking for a new challenge, and just so happens to choose a world filled with the magical, the mundane, and one strange woman. God only knows where it will go from there.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Adapted from a roleplay on Tumblr between ConflictofInterestsRPBlog (myself), TheBlackestofHats, and TheWhitestofHats. The first chapter will be relatively tame. It's only going to get more violent and more kinky from here, folks.

A boiling green mass of magic opened in an unsettling maw, larger than was strictly practical for the function it provided - namely, as portal to a rather dapper individual striding into this unfamiliar world, a bright gleam in his visible eye as he laughed raspily, teal fangs glinting in the sun. Black Hat had arrived. 

Kris was among the slack jawed masses gaping at the thing as it formed and disgorged it’s stylish traveler. She did not, however also scream and run or take out a phone, or make the sign of the cross or whatever else normal people did when the world did something it wasn’t supposed to.

No, she picked her jaw up off the floor, clenching it ever so slightly, and made her infinitely less stylish way over to the human-shaped thing in the top hat. Her expression and posture morphed seamlessly into one of cautious eagerness as she approached.

For a moment, he simply stood, surveying this new setting with smug satisfaction at the disturbance his arrival had already created. He held himself with what could have been confidence, but probably had arrogance mixed in with it, as though he felt totally assured that nothing could ruin his day.

He’d just begun to stride forwards, when he caught sight of the human making her way towards him, and one of those over-the-top eyebrows crooked up further than an eyebrow should technically have been able to reach. Someone was approaching him? It took a moment to remind himself that this was not as strange as all that - he hadn’t built a reputation here yet. “Something to say?”

She stopped a respectful distance away from him and bowed deeply with great form for someone who didn’t grow up around royalty. “Yes, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, sir.” Her storm grey eyes peeked at him with poorly concealed excitement from behind a curtain of mouse-brown hair before she straightened out. Even though she couldn’t quite hear the thoughts of the being, she felt a little drama was a safe bet if the enormous portal and literal top hat and monocle were anything to go by.

“My name is Kristy Bowman and I’m an ambassador on behalf of the Council of Elder Mages in the City of San Diego,” the silver pentagrams on the backs of her fingerless gloves glittered as she gestured from herself to all around her. “I’d like to welcome you to my fair city and show you around,” she explained with a cheer that didn’t quite match the bags under her eyes. “What may I call you?”

The other brow rose to join the first as she bowed, formal and with apparent respect - it was as though this person could tell what amount of deference was wise, what amount he would have demanded, before he even needed to say anything. Perceptive. Well, he did open a huge portal, so perhaps it was logical. Hmm, excitement? Intriguing. He inclined his head just slightly in acknowledgement of the gesture, an amused smile playing about his lips.

An ambassador? Mages? There’d been magic users in the world he’d come from, but not quite this official-sounding. “Greetings, Miss Bowman… I am Black Hat.” His expression slid into a broad, slanted grin, and he chuckled slightly. “I hadn’t expected a tour, but it certainly seems like a good starting point~” He was curious about the pentagrams, but perhaps they were a mage thing.

Her eyes flicked to the eponymous accessory before settling back on his noseless face. “Black Hat, it is an honor,” she smiled brightly, the rest of the defensive runes littering her coat glittering in the San Diegan sun. They caught his eye, and something about them told him that these were no mere decorations. He didn’t recognise them all, but nonetheless, he had a sense that there was more to them than he knew.

Sirens were approaching as they spoke and she glanced nervously as they did. “May I be so bold as to ask you to dismiss the portal, sir? It’s scaring the mundanes,” she said gesturing apologetically to the pandemonium around them.

He seemed unbothered by the noise, but quirked a brow at her reaction and polite request. “Since you ask so nicely… I suppose I don’t need it right now~” He replied, snickering slightly as he glanced at the chaos she pointed out. Lifting one gloved hand, he snapped his fingers, and the portal spiralled in on itself, appearing to implode. “Better?”

With that, she breathed a sigh of relief, but the smile quickly returned. “Much, thank you. If I might direct your attention to scenic over there, away from where all the emergency crews are heading,” she gestured with a flourish. There was a touch of sarcasm to the suggestion. She turned to lead him off towards the waterfront and the convention center, sowing subtle seeds of confusion in her wake to make it less likely they would be disturbed

He chuckled a little as he heard the sigh, but didn’t comment - while he often was, evil did not have to mean rude, and she seemed potentially useful. He snorted at her phrasing, glancing in the indicated direction. While apprehension was to be expected, he was less accustomed to snark coming from those who weren’t wearing ridiculous pyjamas and picking fights with him. It was worth perhaps a glimmer of respect, but not as yet worth thinking on. “Heh, very well.” He replied, moving to stride alongside her.

She walked confidently, and though she was a fair amount shorter (a full foot shy of him if you counted his hat) her pace wasn’t slow. They managed to slip the police net, and the memory of the event was getting corrupted as people recounted it. It was always easier to let weirdness be written off as delusion than to erase an event completely. 

He had an inkling that there was something about this situation that was a little unusual, that he was missing something, but he chalked it down to his not yet being used to this world. Possibly a mistake, but he couldn’t tell that just yet - he wasn’t listening to the blather of the populace anyway.

They walked under the Old Town arch, coming to the square in front of the convention center, and she lead him across the street to a nice little restaurant that had set up shop in the shade of several large buildings. “Over there is the Convention Center, home to the San Diego Comic Con, a grand gathering of fandoms and capitalism,” she said waving towards the building that looked a bit like a bunch of tubes laid on the ground. “Coronado Bay is behind it,” she said, pointing out the glittering blue in the distance.

He glanced around as they strode along, taking in the sights and trying to learn what he could from these new surroundings. He was intrigued by the restaurant, wondering vaguely whether food here would be any different to back home, but his train of thought was put on hold by the mention of the Convention Center. “Do they ever hold villainous or heroic conventions there?” He asked, apparently serious in this query, while making a mental note of the bay and its location.

She gave him a sidelong glance, quirking an eyebrow. “Villainous convention?”

He quirked an eyebrow right back, almost as though to prove his could go higher. “Indeed - those can be quite entertaining, and not simply for the petty squabbles.” 

She shrugged at the idea of ‘squabbles’ between convention-sized groups of people lead by supers, but inwardly shuddered. She was lucky her territory wasn’t war-torn, because shit like that sounded awful for her constant, low grade headache. Which, come to think of it, was a little more than low-grade since her new buddy showed up. Lovely.

She tried to keep positive though, and focused on the perfection of his previous revelation. Trying to keep the amusement in her voice to a minimum, she said “No, no supers in this world. Monsters, sure. Mages, you betcha. Angels, demons, deities, definitely. No real heros or villains, though.”

He caught a hint of something in her voice, but he hadn’t twigged that she was amused, possibly in part because he couldn’t see why she would be. While he looked intrigued by the description of what this world contained, his lip curled in a brief sneer at the mention of deities. While he was aware they existed, he preferred not to acknowledge them - it would only encourage them, he felt, and he kind of resented them anyway. “None at all? How odd - the world I just came from is teeming with them.” 

“Just not in the metaphysics of the place, I expect,” she said in response. She felt a sudden surge of camaraderie with the look the gave the notion of deities. This guy knew. She thought for a second, though and amended, “Got a few mundanes who like to dress in spandex and Kevlar, though. Apprehend other mundane criminals, citizens arrest sort of thing,” she expanded neutrally. “Definitely the exception. Tend not to survive their first encounter with real monsters, though.”

He blinked owlishly at that, a little startled. “Common-or-garden folk, donning the mask and entering the fray? Bold, but perhaps not brainy.”

She shrugged again and raised her eyebrows in that ‘what’re you gonna do’ expression. “Nobody ever accused them of being smart.”

He snorted at that, amused, and he could immediately think of several such people. “I suppose they wouldn’t, would they?”

Looking back, he was definitely beginning to notice that something was a little off now - had she just shrugged? At the notion of super-powered chaos? Perhaps it just seemed surreal and irrelevant, too distant to matter. “I suppose not… huh, I wonder how that affects things - probably fewer large hams clogging up media with their ridiculously hugging tights and implausible glinty grins.” As if he was one to talk about being a large ham - but at least his attire was merely dated. “Ah, well. If there aren’t any supers, I take it the larger scale conflicts not involving ‘mundanes’ involve primarily magic?”

She huffed a small laugh. “No, a lot more politics and international incidents on the news here,” she said wryly. “And you’d be partially correct. What supernatural conflict there is is between several factions; mages are just one of them. You’ve also got your werewolves, your fairies, vampires, dragons, ghouls, lust demons. They’ve got pretty significant powers, but they tend not to be as versatile as mages. San Diego is kind of a demilitarized zone, though, mostly because we keep the last faction out.” She shuddered at the thought. “Sorcerers will fuck shit up like no other,” she explained. “Black magic, mages that dabbled in mind control. No turning back after doing that.”

He rolled his eye - politics - if only there was a way to harness all that hot air for a practical purpose. His interest was piqued when she mentioned faction conflict, though, and he rubbed his chin as he considered it. “Dragons? What range of dragons are we talking - little swamp dragons, wyverns, those peculiar feathery ones, long wingless ones, huge ruddy great reptiles, what?”

Kristy looked thoughtfully up and to the left. “Iunno, I’ve only ever met the one. Huge, scaly, horns, teeth, claws, and leathery wings. She lives in a cave in the La Jolla cliffs with an enormous horde. They don’t call it the jewel for nothing.” She snickered at her own joke, gesturing off to the north.

Ah, they definitely had the big ones, then - he’d have to remember that. “Heh, I wonder if it’s called that because of the hoard, or if she chose to have her hoard there because of the name… Eh, no matter. I suppose anyone looking sideways at that hoard is looking to be good with ketchup?” Internally, he was wondering just how enormous that hoard might be, avaricious as he was.

She snapped a finger gun at him at the guess. “You got it. I’m about the only person I know who’s made it out of the main chamber. Seems like she collects corpses too.” She pulled a face, remembering the smell.  
The only survivor she knew of? … Just who was this ambassador, and why the fuck was she traipsing into dragon lairs?

Now that he thought about it, it intrigued him to learn of mages’ versatility… He was a little disappointed that he’d emerged somewhere specifically demilitarized, until he realised that that meant it might possibly have the potential to set all kinds of trouble off if it was remilitarized. 

He raised a brow at the mention of sorcerers, though. "I’ve not heard that distinction made between sorcerers and mages before, perhaps a difference between worlds. Mind control? Heheheheh… yesss, that can turn quite nasty. Never been part of my arsenal, but I’ve seen it at work.”

Her eyes narrowed at his tone as he discussed her life’s work. “Yeah, part of the deal with sorcerers, when they become corrupted they gain the sense of telepathy. Couldn’t stop hearing thoughts if they tried. I recommend negotiations with a rifle at a distance large enough that the curvature of the Earth has to be taken into account,” she said wryly, watching his reactions carefully.

Oh, was she actually glaring at him? How cute. Was she offended by his amusement? Wait, had she just said what he thought she had? “Corrupted? As in, by higher forces - and they can’t shut the thoughts of others out? Sounds like a one-way ticket to gibbering in the making… reminds me of the last time someone tried to break into my mind - hah! Rifles? I prefer to be in close, myself. Feels more real. Hmm… but a rifle with that kind of power could be interesting… Is there anything else of importance a newcomer should know about this world?”

She gave him a sidelong glance as he caught onto one of the bigger metaphysical points of the world. “Yeah. Actually all the monsters were corrupted by one of the Powers That Be. Life got ghouls, succubi and incubi, Good got werewolves and fairies, Evil got vampires and dragons. Death doesn’t have any, his tend to, you know, die. The Original Being is the one behind sorcerers,” she explained with casual contempt for the subject matter.

His brows were already lifting, but by the time she got through explaining the corrupted, they’d floated clean off his face and above the brim of his hat. “I’m beginning to think that there’s no world out there that isn’t inherently fucked up.” He commented, as he processed this information.

“That is a distinct possibility,” she admitted with no small amount of resignation. “That being said, You’d be doing me a favor if you took any trouble you intended to cause to some other city. I’ll be happy to get you settled in and set up, hell I’ll give you a loan if you need it. This is my city, though, and I’d like to keep it peaceful.”

She so casually asked him to keep his troublemaking elsewhere. Not begged or implored, as he was so very used to, but asked - and offered to help him settle in, as if he was some kind of college student who needed a loan? His jaw dropped as he stared at her, as though she’d started flashing with all the colours of the rainbow. Who was she to call this her city? “You are not a normal ambassador.” He stated flatly, “What exactly do you intend to placate me with?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blood and death go here. I advise the squeamish to turn back.

“You are not a normal ambassador.” He stated flatly, “What exactly do you intend to placate me with?”

She froze, more still than death with that statement, and his mouth twitched in a slight smile. He’d been right!

She heaved a sigh, glaring at him. She didn’t need to elucidate anything he hadn’t already guessed for himself. He met her narrowed gaze with his usual unbothered arrogance, though he was somewhat intrigued.

“Yeah, the other half of my job description is ‘enforcer,’” she explained smoothly, stretching out. “I keep the powerful in power and resolve petty altercations before they become too problematic. I’m also the one they call to put down sorcerers. I have ties to all the major factions. Tell me what you want, I’ll see what I can do.” She looked at him calmly, hands laced behind her neck.

“An enforcer, you say? How… interesting~” His grin broadened like that of some malevolent Cheshire Cat, and he rubbed his hands together - seemed that this was doing anything but dissuading his interest. “What I want? Tell me, does this world have an equivalent of Alexander the Great? He who was said to despair that there were no more worlds for him to conquer?”

He laughed gutturally, struck by an amusing thought. At least, it was amusing to him. “Congratulations, you’ve met a real live supervillain - I’ve conquered my own world, and now I’m here for a fresh challenge~ What say you now, ambassador?”

The challenge deflated her. She looked tired. She just looked so tired. She wiped a hand down the left side of her face and over her mouth absently before pulling a chair out at one of the tables outside the restaurant and poured herself into it. Her storm gray eyes dull and listless as she looked up at him.

“I wish you wouldn’t here.” Her voice was small, but it didn’t plead, it didn’t beg, and it didn’t boast. She leaned over, elbows on her knees, face in her hands. She sighed as she silently went over her options if she did have to fight this literal supervillain. She wasn’t quite equipped to deal with demons bent on world conquest.

He blinked owlishly, a confused warbling sound escaping past his fangs as he regarded her shift in posture and expression. This wasn’t how it was supposed to work! She was supposed to be setting herself against him, showing him how she earned that title of enforcer - or fleeing, perhaps, if he were too much. Not… this.

“Then why don’t you try to stop me, mageling?” He demanded, stalking closer and looming. Something still felt odd about her, he wasn’t sure quite what - perhaps it was the way she’d just… immediately shut down, like someone had flicked off the lights in her.

She huffed a bitter laugh and cocked an eyebrow at him. “You took over an entire world, ‘teeming’ with superheroes you said. The fuck sort of difference am I gonna make?” Though she sounded quite defeated, his reaction kindled a small spark into her eye. Maybe this was salvageable.

Bitterness - he knew that sound well, but so soon? Had she really given up already? He scowled, his features distorting like a cartoon character’s as he gnashed his teeth in frustration. “A world I’d had aeons to accustom myself to - this world is entirely new to me! Come on now, you’ve faced a bloody dragon, and you’re just bowing out the moment I tell you why I’m here?”

She had to work to hide a satisfied grin, but she managed by putting her face in her hands. “I’m not all that powerful,” she lamented, muffled by obstruction. “To be completely honest I’m mostly just lucky. I didn’t think I was ever going to be able to leave. I just stayed put until she told me to bring her back some more gold!” She moaned, lifting her head as if crying to the blue sky above. “The fairies and ghouls are just nice people. Werewolves and lust demons need to be treated with respect, and flattery and a pint gets you everywhere with vampires…”

She sighed heavily. “Look if you’re looking for a challenge, I’m telling you it’s the sorcerers that are going to put one up. Territorial bastards and obsessed with keeping the Balance. I can barely keep them out of the city, and most of that is them squabbling amongst themselves.” She was careful to keep her lack of enthusiasm readily apparent, feeding in her honest weariness with her interactions with others of her ilk.

“I mean, my only saving grace against them is a long range rifle. No idea what sort of trouble I’d be up against if they were up close and personal reading *my* mind.”

The idea of fighting sorcerers had an appeal, particularly given what she’d said about them - but he was focused on her right then, they could wait - and he suspected she was throwing them under the bus to get him to go away. “Oh, go chase sorcerers shall I? What d’you expect of me, that I’ll go ‘round yelling ‘here, sorcerer, sorcerer’? I don’t know how to find them - but you, you’re here, and what kind of enforcer that calls this her city is going to just - just give up?!”

Her body went slack in her chair, and she stared off into space. “I’m a fraud. All I do is run errands for everyone! I’m a glorified intern!”

What was with all this whining? She’d had a spine earlier! He stared at her in askance, an incredulous look plastered across his face as she indulged in this pathetic display. “I call bullshit!” He hissed, his posture becoming more aggressive as he glared at her. He gesticulated angrily, jerky motions of his arms expressing his frustration as he tried and failed to summon the words to phrase his points.

She audibly winced as her headache flared. She was getting the distinct impression his irritation was correlated with her mental pain. She got the distinct impression he was about to…

With a snarl, his fingers snapping into glove-tearing claws, he lashed out at her - staring into space as though acknowledging him was optional wound him up more on top of the bullshit. Perhaps if he attacked her, she’d actually summon her nerve again. She flinched as he swung, throwing her limbs in front of her defensively. His claws threw her warded arms to the side, spinning her out of the chair and to the ground.

He actually felt a little relieved as she moved to defend herself - at least she wasn’t as done as to just let it hit uninterrupted. He felt something odd briefly as he struck her, but it didn’t register much with him, not as much as the sight of her flung from her chair.

With her back to him, he could see the giant Celtic cross that dominated her coat. She was still, but breathing. He watched, waiting - he’d flung the opening salvo, and now it was time to see if she’d step up to it. That huge Celtic cross intrigued him, its size making it seem as though it was of some importance.

She might have been unconscious, though after a moment she sucked in a sharp breath and scrambled to her feet, getting a few feet between herself and the demon, holding her fingerless gloved hands up, as if to ward him off. Blood dripped from a shallow wound in one wrist. She was watching him with wide eyes, though she didn’t seem to be trembling with fear.

He grinned wolfishly at the sight of blood, taking satisfaction in this retribution for her whining. Interesting though, that there still seemed to be no fear. “Ready to try fighting back?” He asked, stalking nearer. “Perhaps I’ll listen to you if you give me a good rumble - certainly better odds than with you spouting drivel.”

She shook her head as if clearing the cobwebs and shook her hand, splattering the blood around a bit. “We don’t have to do this buddy,” her eyes roamed over him cautiously before landing on the eponymous fashion accessory. His grin broadened as he recognised fighting talk - finally! Was she looking for an opening to attack him from?

“… But if you insist,” she let herself have a small smirk as her uninjured hand snapped. A strong gust of wind whipped up around the demon, kicking up his own coat around him and snatching his hat from his head. She slid into a position with her injured hand closer to him and higher so that the top hat rolled down her arm, across her back and down her other arm.

He was just opening his mouth to return that banter, anticipating having some fun, when she flung wind at him - his eye widened, and he made a grab for his namesake as it was knocked from his brow, leaving a bowler beneath it. That was his first priority, not whatever she might do if this was a distraction.

She scored a lot of style points, but her body went stiff as a board as she caught the brim in her good hand. Her eyes actually rolled up into the back of her head as soon as hat touched skin.

He screeched like some kind of dinosaur as he felt his hat make contact with her arm, whirling in her direction with his hands outstretched, his eye wild and red-on-black as he lunged. There was something very weird going on - a feeling he didn’t recognise or understand, something alien to him threading in with despair-lethargy-seeping tendrils. He could only think of one source, and she was right there, gripping his hat - he grasped for her throat, claws raking at her as he snarled.

She clutched the hat in a death grip as he ripped open her neck. Her lifeblood squirted out at him, hot and thick. She couldn’t move, couldn’t think, her head was filled with static and… Rage. She was overwhelmed, utterly and completely, and didn’t even flinch as he killed her. She stood for a few moments before her knees buckled and she collapsed like a puppet whose strings had been cut. She still held the hat tightly, even as the rest of her body went limp.

There was a dead body in the square in front of a restaurant in broad daylight, laying in a slowly growing pool of blood. People were screaming. In the distance one could already hear sirens.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dead body and a bit of gore warning.

He hissed, wincing as her grip on his hat tightened in death, far less concerned about the blood - he was used to that. Her lack of so much as a flinch bothered him, as his head began to clear, and he cursed gutturally in a dead language as he realised what a boneheaded approach he’d made - he was in public, in broad daylight, and basically an unknown in this world. Taking someone out in such fashion, and so quickly…

What was he, a rookie?

As she was still clutching his hat quite tightly, he opted to seize her corpse and form himself a set of wings and a tail for steering, leaping into the air dragon-wise to seek out somewhere less crowded to sort this mess out, starting with his hat.

Her body hung approximately limply, save for the grip on his hat. Though she was dead, her ward coat still worked, and he could feel the steady presence of protective energy around the corpse. Lot of good it was doing her now.

The screaming of bystanders might have been welcome in other circumstances. However, Black Hat was feeling far from jubilant, cussing under his breath as he realised he was caught between saltwater and a throng of people. Perhaps if he opened another portal, and tried to get somewhere else in this world?

Wait, since when had he been so dizzy? Something was wrong - that blasted coat! He’d forgotten about that but he couldn’t discard it now. Snarling as he wobbled in the air, he tore another hole in reality, smaller this time, in search of somewhere less populated.

The portal spat him out not too distant from a freeway, though it was hidden from view by a hill. A few hiking trails passed nearby, but he was alone for now. He was surrounded by scrub brush, and to the south there was more suburb. He’d successfully evaded the police, and he had a warded corpse which was tightly clutching his top hat.

He closed the portal hurriedly, not wishing to be disturbed, and resumed his usual shape as he set Kris down among the bushes. Most of the odd wooziness he’d felt started to bleed away once he was no longer in contact with her coat, confirming his suspicions. How long had it actually taken him to get somewhere? He wasn’t even sure, the effects of that coat having messed with his sense of time.

Deciding that such things didn’t matter just yet, he sat down by the corpse and reached for the arm bearing his hat. That tight grip was rather uncomfortable, and not just in the physical sense. He felt uneasy jangles through him just seeing her hand clutching onto it. Slowly, he began trying to ease her fingers from his brim, cursing under his breath colourfully.

With a little coaxing, her fingers soon released the hat. Her pallid face stared with unseeing eyes up at the empty sky. He cradled his hat to him once he had extracted it, examining it to be sure that it had experienced no adverse effects. When he was sure it was unharmed, he sighed, slipping it back onto his head. That was much better.

Even before anything visually apparent happened, Black Hat could sense something gathering around and within her. He stiffened, startled - that was magic, he was sure that it was. Not just any magic, either…

It was not long after that the gouges in her throat more or less closed and a series of wet pops could be heard as her bones realigned themselves. Her eyes closed of their own accord and she drew a sharp breath which she released in a quiet, agonized, raspy moan. She brought up the hand that had been holding his hat to a throat that had an angry red mark instead of a gaping wound as tears slipped from eyes that were screwed shut.

To his amazement, as he glanced back at Kris, she actually seemed to be healing - from death, no less. He blinked owlishly for a moment, wondering whether this was why she’d not seemed as afraid as he might have expected. 

“… I’m self-aware enough to realise that both of us made mistakes in this, but just so we’re clear? My hat is not something to trifle with, and I will kill you again if you try anything like that with it a second time.”

She didn’t even crack an eye at that. “Noted,” she croaked through sobs, before rolling onto her side and bringing her jeans-clad legs in towards her chest. She clutched her neck in a foetal position, feeling as the wound stubbornly refused to heal.

He watched in fascination as she rolled about, watching her recovery. “Good. Is that a mage thing, the healing? It felt distinctly familiar.” He asked, folding his arms and strumming his fingers along them as he regarded her, heedless of a line of green drool that had begun seeping out to meet the blood on his face. He was definitely suspicious of her at this point.

Her head was killing her, too. “When did you get so loud?” She moaned, voice hoarse and broken. While the confusing effect from before seemed to have subsided around his thoughts, he was suddenly easier to read, and pretty overwhelming at that.

He scowled at her question, his brows furrowing, and he tilted his head as he stared at her. “I’ve been loud quite a lot through my life, but I assure you, this is a normal speaking volume.” What was she on about? He was confused and irritable, but still curious enough not to just ditch her.

She sighed in exasperation before picking herself up off the ground. His lip curled slightly at the sound - really, exasperation of all things.

She didn’t bother to dust herself off, covered in blood as she was, instead opting to snap her fingers dismissively, making all the disarray vanish in an instant. It was odd, so odd, and the magic she used to clean up all the blood had a definitively different magical signature to that which he’d sensed from her as she healed. Just what was going on here?

Her normal slouch was gone, and she seemed a bit taller with her back so stiffly straight. She glared irritably at him, a less cartoonish version of his own expression. “Come on. We both know you’re not that stupid,” she prompted, folding her arms in front of her. 

He hadn’t quite put his finger on it until she spoke up tersely, folding her arms - it was like looking into a mirror! His eye widened, realisation hitting him. “So you were touching my mind! You’re one of the sorcerers you were trying to sic me on!”

Her scowl deepened. “It wasn’t on purpose. Normally articles of clothing aren’t parts of people,” she pointed out bitterly. “And must you be so loud? I can hardly hear the rest of the city over all your racket.”

Bitterness. She wasn’t the only one feeling salty, though probably for different reasons. More like parts of people aren’t usually articles of clothing. He thought irritably, his own scowl furrowing a little more. Wasn’t as though he’d intended that to happen. “Were you expecting normal from an abomination? Excuse me princess!” He snorted, huffing, before realising what that second point she made implied, and trying to block her out by turning his focus onto his breathing. “I’m not a telepath, I don’t know why I’m that loud.”

It was almost charming that he tried to quiet himself down. “It’s probably because you’re just more powerful than most of the folks I deal with,” 

More powerful? That mollified him a little bit, and he nodded consideringly, rubbing his chin. “I suppose that would make a difference, wouldn’t it?”

She sighed, bringing her fingers to the angry red welt on her neck. “What is this?” She seemed more honestly inquisitive than irritated by it’s presence. “Resurrection normally leaves me pristine…” She muttered quietly, glancing at the hands that had done the deed. “Though I guess I’ve never been murdered by a supervillain before,” she sneered condescendingly.

Was she actually surprised to have a scar? He blinked at her comment - usually his own healing left him pristine himself, though there had been… exceptions. “How intriguing… I suspect it has rather more to do with my eldritch nature than my wickedness - particularly seeing as that magic felt almost like distant kin to mine.” He chose to ignore her sneer, though it irritated him.

She nodded at his observation, though. “Yeah, you might be right. You’re the first eldritch horror I’ve had the dubious pleasure of dying to as well.” Her own accent seemed to be returning as the scar proceeded to fade and smooth. “And it’s getting harder to hear you as I heal, I think,” she added as an afterthought as the strange static started overwhelming the thoughts coming from him.

“Hmm? Perhaps as you heal, you become insufficiently eldritch to pick up my wavelength.” Blast, a motivation not to inflict that much damage on her. “Is that a sorcerer thing?”

“Touche,” she admitted. She shrugged at his speculation, though. “I mean, I guess. Again, not a whole lot of experience with eldritch abominations.” The scar was almost invisible at this point, and he was back to vague emotions and staticy nonsense.

He shrugged - it wasn’t as though he could claim to be an expert in other eldritch sorts himself. Mostly, he had had to work that shit out as he went along. Not, of course, that he was about to admit that, instead opting to just watch her scar fade.

She looked him over and noted aloud, “You and OB have a lot in common. He’s probably the same species as you or some bullshit like that.”

Who was OB? Another eldritch horror? Oh fuck- She probably had enough access to his, as he put it, wavelength to discern a spike of alarm and resentment at the idea that there could be another of his species around. Even if she hadn’t, he was facially expressive enough that perhaps she wouldn’t need to. “He better not be.”

She flinched a bit at his negative emotions. They rolled through her like a physical strike. He folded his arms again - he preferred to have privacy in his own mind, but what could he do? At least he seemed to have some kind of shielding.

Her response was a little sarcastic. “Man, if you wanna pick a fight with the Original Being, the guy who separated the other four deities of this universe off from himself, infused a bit of his power into each and every sorcerer and still has the means to end this universe in a blink, you go right the fuck ahead, my man,” she said holding her hands up defensively. “If you could knock his ass down a peg or two I’ll be right behind you.”

He growled under his breath, before finding his eye widening as she described what exactly she meant by OB. “Fuck no - I’m not dumb enough to try something like that!” He didn’t have the juice for it, he knew perfectly well. “D’you think I’d be down here picking fights with should-be-mortals if I had that kind of firepower?”

She watched him process what she’d been telling him with a slight smugness. At least she wasn’t the only one feeling powerless. She was about to answer his rhetorical question when she found herself incapable of speech. She blinked in confusion for a moment before another, deeper, masculine voice responded from directly behind Black Hat.

“Probably not.” There was a smirk in the voice, coming from a Cheshire smile that was fairly human for being disembodied, hidden easily from Kristy’s view by Black Hat himself. The smile quickly pulled a body around it, a man about Black Hat’s stature, though slightly more muscular, with rich mahogany red skin, black scleras and golden yellow irises. He looked quite at ease in a dark vest, a white shirt and black slacks. He only smelt vaguely more eldritch than the background.

“But why would you pick fights with should-be-mortals anyways?”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some mind control here. Other than merciless teasing, this chapter is relatively tame.

Was that confusion he glimpsed on her face? It looked as though she’d been about to sa- _waffle-desecrating grease-farmers what was that?!_ He jumped, startled, at the sound of a sudden voice behind him, making a sound not unlike that of a cat whose tail had been stepped on as he whirled around. He hissed defensively, tongue flicking out in its forked form briefly as he narrowed his eye at the sight of someone forming into an ~~unfairly attractive~~ unnervingly smug figure, one he couldn’t discern as much more eldritch than the reality itself. “Who wants to know?” He demanded, trying to tell himself that it could be someone else.

“My, but you are angry,” the newest arrival murmured to himself as ram’s horns grew up out of his black hair, curling into neat, round spirals, and his ears elongated too look a bit like a mule’s. His fashionable black leather shoes hardly stirred the dust as he walked around the younger eldritch horror, and he stroked a black goatee pensively.

A flash of irritation shot through Black Hat, which he tried to smother. Anger had been a near-constant companion for quite a lot of his life, for reasons he couldn’t help thinking of as he found himself facing what had to be an older abomination. After all, he’d been maimed the last time he’d faced such a being, and cast aside.

By this point, Kristy was silently freaking out, though in addition to being muted, she found herself unable to leave the area, compelled not to move past a certain point. Her expression was not so much terrified as filled with utter dread.

_Damnit, why did this bastard have to be hot?_ He had to be doing that on purpose. He held himself stiffly as the other strode around him, feeling as though he was being inspected, and a glance at Kris’ expression did the lurching in his gut no favours.

“Welcome, by the way,” he smiled kindly, holding out a perfectly manicured hand to shake. “You may call me James. I’m sure my toy has done my introduction justice otherwise,” he glanced over to Kristy as he made mention of the word toy. For her part, she was trying not to cower.

He did not trust that smile - he remembered another smile that had ended in betrayal and pain, and he had to force himself to smile back and take that hand. If he himself could be capricious, how could he expect James not to be? Better play along. “Then you are the original being here, James? I, as you no doubt already know, am Black Hat.” Just a toy, was she? If she’d enough experience with resurrection to know she never retained scars, how often had she died? He was filled with discomfort.

James’s placid smile never faltered as the young demon worked his way through his feelings. “Yes, I’ve been made aware. You do, however, remind me of a friend’s adopted child. Fausto he was called…” his expression grew pensive, though he waved that away like an errant fly. “No matter. Black Hat, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

That smile was unnerving in its unchanging nature, particularly to one as expressive as he. He was distracted from musings on this subject, however, by the next things out of James’ mouth. How could he remind anyone of someone’s adopted kid? He was, at a glance, very distinctive, so - what. “Fausto?” Why did that name seem to demand his attention? He stared, something dimly stirring in the back of his mind, a snatch of faded memory bespeaking warmth and someone’s hand cupping his tiny form.

The older abomination chose not to comment on Black Hat’s moment of recognition. It would be brought up again if it became relevant. It seemed he wouldn’t be getting an answer for that just then. Fine. There were more immediate concerns on the table at present.

James made his way over to Kris, who was doing her best to keep away from him. It was not succeeding. “Now, you never answered my question. Why did you kill poor Kristy here?” He asked, grabbing her face to face him with, squishing her cheeks between the fingers of one hand. The woman’s eyes had blown out, irises almost invisible and completely out of focus. Her struggles had stilled the moment he touched her, not unlike when she had caught Black Hat’s top hat.

His gaze followed as James approached Kris, and he narrowed his eye again as the other squished her cheeks. The effect was somewhat creepy, and reminiscent of earlier… “She took my hat, I took her life - it was ill-thought-through, but both have been returned.” He replied tightly, aware that James was making some kind of display of power and being torn between the impulse to flee and the urge to watch. Was he already being toyed with?

James looked him over, almost looking through him as the younger abomination explained. “And so they have,” he said, turning the mage’s face back to him before letting her go. She gulped in a breath and flung herself away from her tormentor, landing on her ass. “Are you well?” He asked the lesser abomination, some small amount of concern in his voice, his head tilted to the side.

He tried to suppress an uncomfortable shiver as James stared at him, feeling as though the other was staring into whatever soul he might have. He wasn’t sure what to think of realising he was a tiny bit relieved that James had let Kris loose, but he was more concerned with that question directed his way. He froze, not sure of the consequences of falsity, before stiffly shaking his head in negation, resenting both the question and its answer.

Kristy was sitting with her knees pulled to her chest and her lapel turned up as if to ward off the cold. It was more likely that she was trying to ward off the two beings near her, because it was quite warm out. He was not accustomed to pity, but Black Hat did feel a brief flare of it as he glanced at Kristy. Perhaps… perhaps he would not antagonize her further, if there was an ‘after’ to this.

Black Hat shortly had no attention spare for the sorcerer as James strode closer. He warped space ever so slightly as he moved, subtle but clearly both deliberate and well-controlled. It was a display, he knew it, and he had to fight down the irrational impulse to switch out his top hat for something fancier. Such clumsy substitutes for a crest display would only make him look ridiculous in the face of someone like this, even if it were a good idea.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” The god asked, allowing a trickle of smugness into his voice and smirk. “Now, of course I know what’s wrong. My toys didn’t get their abilities out of the aether. But I’d like to hear you say it.”

He rather disagreed with that smug little smirking rhetorical query, but that didn’t keep the older horror’s voice from coaxing a faint tint of green into his features as he scowled. He twitched as though stung when James elaborated, eye widening at the implications, and his breath caught in his throat. He knew. For a moment, he felt hatless, as though his bereft head was bare for anyone to see, and old shame bubbled in his gut.

James enunciated his last sentence slowly and sensually, his long, human-like tongue gently caressing the words as if they could be anything else. Except for longer, sharper canines, his mouth was very human. It was hard to look away as he said the words, even Kris was staring intently at the back of his head. “What can I do for you?”

He wanted to look away - or, indeed, simply leave - but he was transfixed as James drew out that last query with unfair sensuality. Black Hat's pupil dialated a little as he took in the beguiling tongue and subtle fangs that shaped the other’s honeyed words. A squirming, heated feeling bloomed further green into his face, and he couldn’t help wondering why he was being teased in this way - just for sport? Rile up the broken Nyarlathi and watch him squirm? He chewed his lip, trying to snap himself out of such thoughts enough that he could figure out how to answer and try not to think about how James was certainly reading his thoughts even then. “… You… could… heal me?” He gritted out, hands clenched stiffly at his side even as he berated himself for being unable to squelch that traitorous note of hope. Hadn’t he learned by now that it only led to pain? Clearly not well enough.

James pulled away, just a step, stretching, before lacing his fingers behind his head, echoing Kristy before she had been knocked out of her chair earlier. The posture James took as he pulled back that small distance - whose even was it? He felt a little disoriented, and not certain whether he was relieved or disappointed that the other was now a little further away. For some reason, it wasn’t even registering with him that Kris was still there, still able to hear everything being said - perhaps in part due to how disengaged she had become from the situation, intently studying her shoes as she was.

“I can,” he stated simply, releasing the compulsion to look at him. The younger horror’s breath hitched slightly, and he couldn’t be sure whether it was the words or the way his focus seemed to be his own again that caused it. “You’ve seen a fraction of my healing capabilities already, ~~Fausto~~ Black Hat.” The names were layered over one another, though those strange, soft lips only formed the name the younger abomination had given. Just a fraction… It was a teasing, taunting temptation, twisting languidly through Black Hat's mind as it wove through his thoughts. Hearing his name felt odd somehow - had he heard just the one name? It felt as though there had been another there, unspoken but heard. Fausto…

The horned being licked his lower lip, and out of nowhere two golden hoops appeared, a snakebite piercing. A few studs and hoops appeared suddenly in each large ear, and black markings flowed from the corners of his eyes, around his cheeks in a few sharp corners and gentle curves. He looked at Black Hat with hooded eyes and a wanton smirk, even tossing a wink his way.

His mouth felt dry, unusual for the world-conqueror, and he couldn’t help expecting at any moment for all this to just be thrown in his face, that James was peeling back the layers of prickliness and rage just to jab at where his vulnerabilities lay. Even so, he still found himself staring, though the compulsion had lifted, as James’ appearance shifted so fluidly, much more seamless than his own transformations. His brows lifted as though trying to escape when he caught the look James directed his way, somewhat taken aback. Had anyone actually winked at him in such a way before? Smirked at him like that? He swallowed, feeling uncomfortably ~~attracted~~ put on the spot.

“… Are… you offering?” 

“I am,” he crooned. There was a patronizing lilt to his voice, as if he were encouraging a particularly dull child for a correct answer. Then he turned, and reality turned with him. A wave of little cards flipped from dusty scrub to an immaculate and lavishly decorated room.

His lip curled slightly as he caught the condescension in James’ crooning tones - but he knew he could not rail against it, particularly when he felt as much as saw reality shifting and changing around them. A teasing reminder of just how much more proficient the other was, how much more experienced and powerful. He didn’t need to brute-force things, he just… willed them and they were.

The first thought that occurred to him when he registered his new surroundings, besides his reaction to said surroundings changing like that, was to note that either James had similar taste for opulence, or that the other was pulling that preference from his mind. The furniture was elaborately carved ebony, and every foot had a claw. The opposite wall from them was tall and completely covered with shelves and musty tomes that bespoke the vast knowledge James had available for the browsing. Black Hat himself had dedicated an entire floor of his manor to the things, though he’d yet to read them all. Before that, facing them were two high-backed chairs, upholstered in intricately embroidered silk. He regarded the chairs for a moment, flustered as he realised that the hue of the silk matched the ichor he could feel heating his face, before stiffly taking a seat in one of them. A side table sat between them with a crystal decanter of some dark liquid and two empty tumblers. He had no idea what the liquid in the decanter was, but he was sure he would soon find out.

He’d registered Kristy’s presence, but he wasn’t paying her much thought, as the same glance that had unveiled her had confirmed to him that yes, yes that was a fantastically comfortable-looking bed over there. Probably no point in asking where he was, he mused, as he shifted in the chair, the motion driven by an uncomfortable squirming sensation he couldn’t ignore. “What’s the catch?” He couldn’t believe there wouldn’t be one - non-interference perhaps? Some sort of quest? The gods he’d read about seemed to like assigning those.

James draped himself over the chair, leaning over the armrest towards his younger counterpart. “Oh nothing too cliche,” he assured, silky as the upholstery on which they were seated. The younger abomination really wasn’t sure how to feel about the older leaning closer like that, the silken tone of his voice gliding near as though it was caressing the air with his words. Through his uncertainty, though, he could tell his breath was a touch quicker than normal, and he was frustrated with his reactions.

“Just the occasional invitation to whatever world you happen to be occupying at the time.” the god explained as he pulled the stopper from the decanter and poured himself a finger of the inky, oily liquid. “Dinner and an apocalypse,” he smirked, swirling the substance. It seemed to be repulsed by the sides of the glass instead of clinging to them as most liquids would.

“Social visits? Seeing the sights?” He wasn’t sure whether that was what the other meant, but hey, uncertainty did seem to be the flavour of the day, though the other nodded. He did seem to be getting the concept. Black Hat found himself staring at the odd liquid, trying to work out what it was. “I don’t generally have apocalypse on my mind, you know.”

James chuckled warmly at the notion that the end of the world wasn’t the plan. “Regardless, it should be entertaining enough.” His eyes slid off of his guest for a moment though to regard his toy.

He shifted a little in place, weighing his options. “I suppose that visits could be arranged…” It wasn’t as though he could exactly keep James from doing so in the first place, so it would probably be best to agree - besides, although the other seemed fond of messing with him (and probably everyone), he was… interesting. Eldritch company who didn’t seem repulsed by him.

Wait, just what was he doing with the ambassador? Kristy was drawn up, looking very much like a marionette, dangling limply from invisible strings. Her eyes were wide with horror as her body moved unnaturally, walking stiffly to the bed before she crawled up onto it and began shedding her coat. That, more than anything else, seemed to rile her up. She was still muted, but she was desperately shaking her head, tears streaming down her face as she mouthed the word ‘no’ over and over again. Chilly suspicion snaked down his back, stilling the squirming that had been bothering him. Begging, he heard fairly often, but this? This had a different, less palatable flavour to it. Her body finally tossed the coat aside, and as it left her fingers, so did her consciousness. Her eyes slid out of focus and her mouth went slack, except for the barest hint of a contented smile. He left her in a hunched pile on the bed.

“Eternity can be so dreadfully dull without a little variety, don’t you think?” The eldritch horror asked a predatory cast to his tone and demeanor as his eyes focused on the crumpled woman, his toy. He hadn’t directed that hunger at Black Hat. He may have viewed the demon as a different sort of creature possessing of a higher form of agency from Kristy.

“Variety, yes… but is this not rather crass?” He asked, in distinctly uncomfortable tones. The younger horror had not liked his encounter with her coat, no, but the idea of being compelled to cast off something that clearly important to her, and in context with the look he could see James giving her… not to mention how extremely creepy seeing the lights behind her eyes go out was… He’d be lying to himself if he claimed that he didn’t find James’ demeanour kind of thrilling, but there were lines in the sand that he baulked at, intimidated by some original being or not.

He drank in the horror on the lesser abomination’s mind. “Oh pardon me,” he flashed him a feral smile. “I don’t mean to monopolize the entertainment!”

James waved a hand and pale smoke coalesced out of thin air behind the elegant gesture, condensing into a large, misshapen bead. The hole through the center was too large, and the wider side had a smaller, secondary hole in it. It was the same color as Kristy’s vacant eyes and shone with an ethereal light all its own. James flicked it negligently at Black Hat, and it vanished into his form as if it had never existed.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More mind control, some soul shenanigans. More merciless teasing. Not particularly explicit in this chapter.

That smile, feral and filled with what he read as some kind of wicked glee - it was tantalising even with the jangling unease he felt about the marionette act the other had pulled with Kris. He couldn’t deny to himself that it was alluring, but- what was that? His eye widened as the peculiar glowing bead formed at his gesture, and he twitched as it was flicked at him, confused and expecting an impact.

A slight choked noise escaped him as, instead of any physical sensation, the younger abomination felt a tiny fragment of being within himself. He turned his attention to it with bewildered caution, trying to make sense of what he could discern. There was the same feeling of exhausted desperation as before, though self-contained now. He found he knew things about her. She was more or less asleep right now. It was dreamless. She loathed being controlled, not only by the Original Being (for some reason the capitalization was important) but by her city as well. Her coat protected her from the brunt of it, but it was akin to commanding the tides to turn when it came to protecting her loved ones from those effects…

He also got the feeling, her being was at his command. He could puppet her, or wake her, or free her entirely, with no more effort than it would take to move a finger.

Had… had he just absorbed her soul? “Well… this is new…” He commented vaguely, deciding that for now, he would wake her, gradually if he could manage it. He still wanted to learn more about those powers she had, so… freeing her right off the bat didn’t appeal. Making the situation less creepy for himself, however, did. Somehow, though, knowing what had happened already helped with that - the unknown of seeing her switch off like she had had been part of his alarm. 

He felt a twinge of relief as he watched her take a gulp of air and refocus her eyes - not too clumsy, then. It would have been a shame to accidentally snuff out a mind that had his grudging respect, after all. He could feel a thrill of panic go through her at his greeting - he couldn’t blame her for that, really. He watched her dart for the coat, reminded of his own grabbing for his hat, and decided not to pull her up short, though the thought had crossed his mind.

He wondered if she would hear him, if he thought at her… _Hello?_ One would never know how much his thoughts in her head unnerved her by the way she kept moving, even more determined to get her coat on. Once it was settled in place, the edges of her being inside him became a little less distinct, but with any effort came into just as sharp a focus as before. Oh now that sensation was interesting.

As his focus shifted around her being, different bits of knowledge became apparent about her. She had a fascinating mind, though he supposed that she’d probably had to develop such to cope with her power. How had she not collapsed under it? He thought he could sense something… some kind of reinforcement - fascinating. It intrigued him to learn that her apartment had more of these runes. She hated media of all sorts and the only writings in her apartment were her own. She had a lot of notes, almost entirely just so she could keep straight what she was allowed to know. She’d been gifted the apartment by her brother, after he’d arranged for her child to be adopted without her being able to see them… After which she’d committed suicide. She had been bitterly disappointed to learn that she would resurrect. That knowledge was uncomfortable to poke at, and he kind of didn’t want to look deeper at it right then.

He played around with focusing in and unfocusing for a moment, like someone playing with a light switch, before quirking a brow at her as she glared at the pair of them, hugging the rune coat around her desperately.

She was a brilliant little actor. _Your resilience does you credit._ He mused to her.

She narrowed her eyes at Black Hat. “It’s fucking rude to speak in someone’s head, jackass,” she spat, bitterness and bravado masking her despair that the one thing she had in her favor over him was gone.

While the spirit she showed in gritting out her insulting rebuke at him was admirable, he thought he probably had more pressing concerns. In place of actually explaining himself, he shoved a dampened-down reflection of the memory of her soul being flicked at his confused self.

The other poured the younger abomination a glass of the strange liquid and handed it to him, raising his own in a toast. “It’s a bargain. Your health, and my entertainment,” he proclaimed fondly.

Black Hat accepted it with a mixture of caution and curiosity. If Kris could clamp defiance around her stark fear, certainly he should do no less. “Indeed - bottoms up, then.” Raising the glass as James did, he moved to try swallowing both its contents and his apprehension in the same movement. The older abomination for his part downed his in one gulp.

James sighed with an almost sexual pleasure as the oily liquid slid down the other’s throat. “Good boy,” he purred, leaning back in his chair for a moment.

The tone of James’ sigh was starting to bring back hints of the heat that’d prickled at him before, and the way the beverage clung to him as he drank it was kind of disconcerting - but not nearly so much as the realisation that not only did it resonate with the same power he’d sensed from Kris’ resurrection, but that it also bore a musky, coppery flavour that bespoke blood and… something else. A rather direct implication that drew a flustered squeak from him as he felt himself flushing afresh. Coupled with that teasing purr from James, those words… The squirming was definitely back, just when he’d thought he had a handle on the situation. “What… did I just drink?”

Both Kristy and James laughed at the small sound that Black Hat emitted. The honest amusement brightened her dim soul, and he could feel her clinging to it desperately to ease her suffering. He felt his cheeks burning as both god and should-be-mortal laughed at his expense, and he growled under his breath as he looked down at his hands. Fine, let them laugh. It wasn’t as though he could deny his reaction.

“Just a little ichor, ~~Fausto~~ Black Hat,” the elder abomination purred. 

Black Hat’s gaze flicked back up to James when the other spoke, his eye widening once more as he spluttered in surprise. Ichor?! On the one hand, he wasn’t sure what it said about James that his ichor tasted as it had, but on the other, he had no idea what effect drinking something like that would have on him. He almost missed the flicker of names in that tantalising purr, with the whirling in his mind.

He rose fluidly from his chair and reality flickered around him again scales flipping in a wave downward, revealing a lithe and muscular body and changing his legs into the body of an enormous golden and copper snake. His lamia form was quite distracting, and the woman licked her lips as she watched him. Her conflicted emotions played within her soul: desire and the knowledge that indulging would rob her of her agency. The younger horror, for his part, bit back what might have been some kind of croon, vaguely comforted by the realisation that he wasn’t the only one the other was having this effect on.

It took her a few moments to process the mental image he’d sent her way, but her eyes widened in shock as the memory came through. That was quickly replaced by fury. “Give it back! Give me my soul!” She screamed, lunging towards the younger abomination and startling him, fingers splayed into dull claws that would be much less effective than those of the being she was attacking. Her soul flared with fury within him, trying to escape. It was of no more consequence than a moth beating its wings against him.

“Gerroff!” He exclaimed, shoving as she made contact. It was actually kind of funny, but he’d rather laugh about it with his personal space unbreached by screaming human, thank you very much.

With the contact, her consciousness blew out like a candle flame. It was different from when mortals touched her, he realized. She was normally a reflection, but he was beyond overwhelming. When he pushed her off of him she tumbled away like a ragdoll, pupils blown wide, breath suddenly shallow and thready. She was stunned for the moment, but he could feel her slowly returning to herself, gray fluttering, beating back green-black out of her tiny bit of soul.

Well then. That happened. He was tempted to poke her, when she collapsed like that, but he decided against it. He wasn’t above the pettiness, but the fluttering of her little soul was interesting enough as it was.

James watched the whole exchange with an expression that was equal parts mirth and hunger. “Did you expect a different outcome?” He purred, amused.

The younger abomination snickered wryly, glancing back towards James and was immediately flustered by the look he was giving him. The elder was toying with his aroused mind regardless of any telepathy in play. “I suppose that I shouldn’t have,” He began, trying to ignore the little shivers of warmth sparked by the other’s purring. “If I hadn’t been rather distracted at the time.” He was quite certain that James knew that - it was probably rather obvious at this point.

The building back up of her soul was kind of fascinating - did souls always behave in this way? He was almost tempted to ask, but as he watched, it seemed as though James had other things on his mind. The older abomination slithered over to her and stroked her face, something that would have signified concern in another context. 

Was he soothi- that was not soothing. The woman arched, moaning desperately. The other’s golden eyes were fixed on him, while Kris’ soul flared in that same hue, Not a speck of Black Hat’s influence or Kristy’s own mind remained - and that sound… Her ecstasy threatened to bleed past the boundaries of her soul, it was so intense. He could see the effect that one touch had, hear it, and sense it from the reaction of her soul, and all the while James’ eyes were fixed on him. He blinked, swallowing as he felt a distinct squirming. When the god withdrew it took her a few minutes to come down from that high, body trembling from the experience, and her soul was still completely overwhelmed.

“Heaven forbid anything distract creatures such as ourselves,” James winked with a smirk.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Explicit M/M monster sex.

Was that a heaven joke, or - _oh_ , oh he was jesting about the relative merit of such as _them_ being distracted. Heh. That was kind of amusing either way, but perhaps not as much as if he had not indeed been quite definitely distracted. Was James really winking at him again? Yes, yes he was, and with _quite_ a smirk.  
“Come, let me see you.” His demand was confident, though not laced with any compulsion. He had arranged himself with a pile of coils which he patted, as if beckoning the younger demon to sit on his lap.

Let him… see him? He could _already_ see him, couldn’t he? Wait… He wasn’t totally sure whether James meant what he thought he meant - for healing? Something _else?_ Both? He stood, less smoothly than if he hadn’t been having a spot of squirm-related difficulty, and decided to test the waters by slipping off his coat, arraying it on the chair he’d vacated, and giving James a slightly hesitant querying look.

A little thrill of realisation shot through him as he saw James gesture for him to keep going, and he shivered slightly as he fumbled with the buttons of his waistcoat. For the greater abomination’s part he was already completely naked, nothing but smooth skin and scales over his powerful, corded muscles. He was devouring Black Hat with his eyes, drinking in every ounce of awkward hesitation, of uncertainty, of arousal. He didn’t hide it as the pointed tip of a penis parted the slit in his broad scales, catching the lesser horror’s eye, approximately where one would expect a human’s to be, though interestingly enough once the spiny head made its way out completely, one more pointed head spread those lip-like scales as well. Black Hat couldn’t help a low whine from escaping him at the sight.

Could this actually be real? It _felt_ real enough - oh, and it was hard to look away from the other’s bare form now, with such thoughts running through his mind. He was not used to such hungry looks directed his way, nor the heady thrill that came with realising that yes, this was really happening.

The elder abomination smirked again at the sounds his counterpart made. “Come now, ~~Fausto~~ boy. I would see you perfected,” he growled, swirling a hand absently. The movement of that hand generated green-black smoke which had yet to coalesce into anything distinct.

All this considered, it didn’t take long for Black Hat to shuck off all but his hat and monocle, self-conscious but determined as he strode a little unsteadily towards James as the other urged him closer. Like James, he bore a slit, though what lay within was making itself known through shiftings just visible through the surface of him. He did his best to resist gulping as he came within reach, shifting on unshod feet that more closely resembled those of some clawed beast than a human.

Damn, but that smirk was unfairly hot, particularly with the sound and awareness of the other sliding nearer, scales against floor. Both large, spined cocks had fully emerged from their resting place. James brought the hand with the gathered magic to them, and the smoke slipped inside him. Was he doing what Black Hat _thought_ he was doing with that magic? Both indeed, it would seem after all, he thought as his gaze flicked from the older horror’s members to his face as he spoke, a fresh squirming probably visible as he registered the feral tones lying beneath playfulness in that growl. “Where would you like to receive your boon, little one?” His growl was still playful, but that was fading fast, losing out to beastial hunger. His coils reached out for the other, pulling the thinner being into a firm embrace which only became more thorough as James looped more of himself around Black Hat, lifting him slightly off the ground in the process.

Where? He really doubted the locations James had in mind weren’t anatomical, though his eye did dart towards the bed for a moment. He was just considering how to answer, when those coils wrapped around him tight, surrounding him in an embrace that only increased as he found himself lifted. He’d produced a startled splutter, but… the feeling of being _held_ like this… it was actually rather pleasant, soothing some of the nervous hesitance he’d felt.

“I… I have a cloaca..?” He tried, his tone a little querying, as if not certain that he’d interpreted the question right. “It’s, uh… not at the front, that’s, well, that’s a sheath…” He wasn’t actually sure whether James, telepathy or not, had yet picked up his inexperience, but perhaps he flattered himself, thinking that it wasn’t obvious. Particularly since thinking of it was likely as good as speaking it.

The coils wound him deftly until he was facing away from the being. He couldn’t see what James was doing now, but somehow, that was exciting. James had pressed himself against Black Hat’s back, and he could feel his hot breath in the downy red feathers that ran down his spine, drawing a stuttered croon from the thinner creature. He wasn’t used to all this touch, but it seemed that he must have needed it somehow, or else why would it allure him so? Strong fingers trailed lazily down one side, which Black Hat subconsciously tried to lean into, before the elder abomination gently bit the expanse of muscle between the younger’s shoulder and neck, tantalising as he pressed those subtle fangs into onyx flesh.

“It’s not every day one gets to corrupt a demon.” Black Hat could feel the words reverberating against his skin and in the chest of his partner.  
He should probably have been more concerned about the word _corrupt_ , but somehow, it was the name he picked up on. Perhaps understandable, given that he’d lost at least one, and been denied another. “Nyarlathi - not demon.” He managed, though with the way James’ words resonated through him, he almost didn’t mind being called a demon.

The eldritch god rumbled assent. “Nyarlathi, my mistake…” he apologized absently into the flesh behind his jaw before licking the spot with a feverish tongue. 

Black Hat would’ve been hesitant to admit it aloud, but the small acknowledgement that he was, indeed, Nyarlathi did mean something to him. It was hard to focus on that flash of validation, though, with the heated wetness of the other’s tongue lapping at a spot behind his jaw. So many new sensations of touch, pleasurable and exciting - so far, he wasn’t regretting winding up in this situation at all, earlier discomfort aside

James’s fingers wandered in and down, carefully toying with the opening to the lesser being’s sheath, making his breath stutter into a faint moan. The flesh slickened as the elder horror coaxed out the squirming tentacle within, writhing with the need to touch, to embrace. James’ own desire was pressed against the others back, drawing shivers from Black Hat, though he refrained, as of yet, to penetrate.

A groan escaped him as James’ hand indulged the questing of his tentacle, the sensitive extrusion rubbing between fingers as it sought to entwine with them, and now and again being grasped with a firmness that saw him arching slightly into the touch as little sounds crept past his teeth. The coils obliged the smaller abomination’s searching hand, pressing a length up further against his chest, sandwiching the younger horror between layers of rippling muscle.

James moved his mouth back down to the other’s neck and bit more firmly, causing the other’s breath to stutter. In mammals it would have been incredibly intimate, with one’s lifeblood within such easy reach. Black Hat may not have been a mammal, not really, but he had grown up and lived among creatures for whom this form of intimacy definitely held that thrill of danger - and with his being in the state it was, and so exposed to someone so much more powerful, that thrill sang through his ichor as his grip on the coil pressing against his chest tightened.

The coils shifted again, spreading Black Hat’s legs. He couldn’t see what the other was doing, the precise moment fingers found his cloaca coming as a squeak-inducing surprise. It plumped invitingly as it was caressed, growing slicker under the older horror’s ministrations. A low moan rose from him, hitching as the distinctively pointed head of one of those lovely cocks brushed against the sensitive opening, teasing it into fluttering as it sought more.

A sense of _need_ , raw and long barely tended, rose in his chest, the echoes of it prickling at his eye. He blinked rapidly for a moment, trying to subdue the swell of _longing_ \- Nyarlathi were _not_ a solitary species, but he had been on his own for so, so long, knowing that none of his own ilk would wish to see him, much less actually _touch_ him. He was not in the most heated part of his natural rhythm, but this was calling to mind all those countless times he _had_ been, and _known_ down to his core that he would be on his own again.

“You are singing with desire, _little one_ ~~Fausto~~ **Nyarlathi** Black Hat.” The statement hummed through them both, verbal and mental, a rumbling appreciative growl. The younger abomination shivered as the words, the names thrummed through him, calling to the different layers of his being. He’d heard that names could have power, but he’d never experienced that in quite this way before. It was heady. 

He nodded, a faint whine escaping, becoming a breathy sigh as those heated, desirous coils caressed him, touching him. _Contact._ He hadn’t realised before how much he needed to be held like this. “I’ve been… alone…” He admitted, as though confiding a secret.

That hand twined with and gripped the tentacle more insistently, causing the Nyarlathi’s eye to screw shut. James matched his pace and drove him on as he pressed the pointed head into the younger abomination. He growled again, more feral, sending a thrill along the spine of his partner, but he refrained from plunging in at once. Those spikes were not made for pumping, at least not pleasurable pumping, so he instead indulged in the process of burying himself. Heat seemed to radiate through the thinner creature from that spot, and he rocked in place, seeking more. The willing flesh wrapped around his whole head and those back-pointed spines was so supple, so lovely…

_“Please…”_ The word came ragged, unaccustomed, but shot through with emotion.

That request, though. How could even the Original Being deny such a plea? He bit down on his neck, just barely enough to break the skin as he hilted one member in his partner, ripping a squeal from his throat, his spare rubbing up under where the hand and the tentacle played. He snarled into Black Hat’s flesh, enjoying the feel of another eldritch abomination in his grasp very thoroughly.

Black Hat was filled, and his inner walls twitched around James. The keening cry tapered into a low, thankful moan, a wave of pleasure rippling through him as he began to get used to the feeling of it inside him. _At last._ He could feel the other member, too, a teasing contact beneath his sheath. The snarl sent a shudder through him, delicious and and wild as it was, and the impression he had that James was most certainly enjoying this - enjoying _him_ \- bloomed warmth in him.

The older horror’s teeth withdrew from the twin wounds. The beads of green carried a dusky, herbal sort of scent, like a dark corner of some fairytale’s forbidden woods, and Black Hat shivered a little as that hot tongue lapped them up. It was kind of fitting, considering that he’d already tasted James’ ichor, but there wasn’t much space in his mind for that line of thought as the other sucked on the marks he’d made, light but insistent, drawing more of it out.

James guided the tentacle down towards his neglected cock, biting down again as the sensitive flesh of their organs made contact, and his breath scorched onyx skin on his sharp exhale. He pulled back again, lapping at the marks. “You make the prettiest noises, little one.” 

The smaller horror’s tentacle began to wind around the cock not within him, wet ridges rubbing against it as it coiled, almost in imitation of the way its owner was wrapped in coils. Squirming around it, the tip moved to brush against the head, as though trying to kiss it. Throughout this, Black Hat had been producing uneven sounds, some louder than others, gripping onto the coil he clutched, his eye widened as the meeting of their members coincided with another bite. He mewled at the hot breath bathing his skin in warmth, the sound becoming breathy as the punctures were licked.

The growling, purring sound was a tantalising accompaniment to the way James rolled his hips into him, that thick length within him shifting in ways that had him crying out, the walls of his passage rippling around it, shifting in shape in small ways as though trying to adapt, and to stimulate in return. The indelicate prickling of those spines provided a sharp contrast, not quite as comfortable in there as it was outside, but a shapeshifter’s body was nothing if not adaptive - it didn’t take long for the prickling to feel as sweetsharp as the teeth. “This body is perfection~” James moaned his declaration into the other’s neck

Black Hat felt so _good_ , so suffused with pleasure and so _wanted_. His breath stuttered as he was praised for the sounds he was making, for his body. Perfection? Did James really mean that? Even if it was a pretty lie, it felt so warming to hear, and his heart soared. James gripped their twining organs, squeezing occasionally, insistently. “Perfect,” he growled, a darkness to his tone as if questioning his ruling had offended him. 

The grip of James’ hand around their members felt so good, especially when he squeezed, and he continued to squirm and constrict with his tentacle, even as the dark growling reaffirmation James voiced reached him. It sent a shiver through him, eye widening, and he released a low warble shakily at the realisation that yes, yes he really _did_ mean it. He didn’t know when he’d last felt so touched.

“Exalt me with your ecstasy.” James growled into the other, nibbling and sucking gently up the side of his neck. “Worship me with your pleasure and accept your blessing.” He thrust harder into the Nyarlathi at that, and his cock pulsed with desire, slamming into a spot within Black Hat that pushed a ragged cry from him, his eye squeezing tightly shut. When he had the presence of mind to do so, he responded by tightening the coiling of his tentacle around the other’s member, and deliberately squeezing the one within him as a sound partway between a croon and a moan escaped him.

James’s breath stuttered as the tentacle passed over the drooling tip, something that encouraged the lesser horror. The slit seemed to open and close, almost in a sucking motion, catching at the questing member. Eager to follow through on this, his tentacle probed at the slit which had caught it, drawing more needy panting from the older creature. The way James was rolling his hips into him, that satisfying moaning sound so close - it was building up a tense knot of pleasure inside him, sending shudders through him as the rhythm of the motion inside him carried him along. His breath coming in pants, he clutched at the coil he’d been holding while he was caressed by others.

The elder horror moved the hand which had been teasing his partner’s cloaca up to his neck, gripping it firmly, pressing enough against it so that it couldn’t be forgotten among the rest of the pleasure. For his part, Black Hat whined slightly as the hand at his cloaca seemed to leave him, only to be startled into a squeak as his neck was grasped, firm and definite. It felt as though James was claiming him in some way. With the heat and pleasure mounting within him, though, and making his breathing increasingly ragged, he couldn’t spare much thought to wonder about it.

Oh, and the _chanting!_ Some time in the process of all this, James’d begun chanting in the language of the Old Ones. Black Hat, Little Imp, Fausto, Captain, Nyarlathi, over and over. He could _feel_ as much as hear how the names being cascaded for him sang to him, each resonating with a part of his identity. Between that and the kisses and gentle bites being bestowed on the unmarked side of his neck, he was getting quite close, the tension in him curling in his toes as he shook, emitting a high whine in an attempt to let him know that he was teetering on the edge.

The whine spurred the more powerful horror on, making his movements harsher, needier. They weren’t deep, but the strength of James’s thrusts was pulsing liquid fire into the tight knot of pleasure taking up most of Black Hat’s mind. He could feel that grip on him tightening, too, making it harder to think past the pleasure fraying at his mind. The rolling of his hips had morphed into shallow but powerful thrusts, the grip of his hands grew harsher, more insistent, both against their members and around his throat. His mouth had moved back to the two wounds and was sucking at them insistently.

A few new names threaded into the chant, Neophyte and Favored of the Original Being, joining seamlessly with the rest. Those were… for him? A different kind of pleasure swelled in his heart, mingling ecstatically with that coursing insistently from his groin and the insistent sucking at the marks James had made. His usual resentment for gods and godlike figures stemmed from both envy at what they had that he had been denied and knowing that _none_ of them had moved to help him when he’d needed it most, or shelter him afterwards. _This_ , though… James _was_ helping him, healing him, giving him the partnered pleasure he’d missed out on so long, and now calling him _favoured_ , telling him he was _wanted_ and _valued_. He accepted those names as his own, something translucently silverblack dripping down one side of his face as he beamed shakily.

“Sing for me,” the elder abomination snarled, punctuating each word with a thrust and a squeeze of each hand. Everything about him was tighter now, muscles rippling against him from every angle. Black Hat’s breath hitched stutteringly as the words of that snarled demand resonated, emphasised by pointed thrusting and squeezing that pulled a thready wail of pleasure from him as he was squeezed tighter in those shifting, muscular coils. _So close - so close!_

He thought he could guess what James meant by _sing_ , but when reality rippled once more, flipping to show a mirror to them, he was awestruck. Not only could he feel _exactly_ what the other meant, and see his reflection so entwined with James’ and fairly _wrecked_ with pleasure - but now both of bodies _thrummed_ with that pleasure in his awareness - he could _feel_ with utmost certainty that he was being enjoyed, what _of_ him was bringing the other pleasure…

His walls were already clamping tight around the member plumbing his depths when James made eye contact with him by reflection, his tentacle writhing and clenching around the other as something pale green issued from it. His mind was whiting out in hot pleasure, his whole body twitching and trembling as he throatily gave voice to the sensation taking him over, toes curled and grip on that coil tighter than ever. The renewed, sweetsharp bite did nothing to stem the tide in him, accenting it as he rode it out, no room in his head for anything but the pleasure.

James’s own eyes rolled up in his head as pleasure finally overwhelmed his partner, thrusts stuttering along with a loud, choked moan. Black Hat’s mouth hung open as heated magic coated his insides, a sensation that sent a mewling shudder through him as it swept up into him, his legs quaking. The older abomination’s other cock spurted its magic, arching up and back onto the younger one, hot and creeping up in defiance of gravity. He gasped, startled, as he felt a new eye forming where he’d never been able to restore it, blinking as he realised that it was there and could _see_. He’d need to adjust his monocle for it, but-

He had no more space for thought on it as he felt the heady rush sweeping through him from where the magic met his hat. His eyes widened, pupils dilating as the atrophied connection between him and his crest was fed, boosted. A layer of pain, an ache he’d almost forgotten he was carrying, lifted. No longer was there a scalpless scar beneath his hat - he was _whole_ , or close enough that he couldn’t tell the difference. Spacescape shimmers crossed his hat, new depth of hue and nuance returning to it, and he couldn’t see clearly for the liquid spilling from his eyes. 

It wasn’t apparent when they had moved to the bed, but here they were, under silken sheets, the eldritch god wound loosely around the horror, pillowing his head with an arm. He seemed to be purring contently, body still ringing occasionally with the aftershocks of orgasm, the names on his lips and mind with each pulse of pleasure. Shaky purring rose from the Nyarlathi to meet that of the other as he dimly realised they were in that luxurious bed he’d noticed before, and he clung to James as though afraid he’d vanish. He didn’t have words, not between the rush of healing and the warmth of the afterglow pulsing in him, but he knew James could hear thoughts, and his own were filled with mingled ecstatic gratitude and the echoes of his pleasure.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> References to death, killing and suicide. Otherwise pretty fluffy.

James stroked the feathery trail along his partner’s spine affectionately, pleased with the outcome of their coupling. “You’ve done very well, Neophyte. I look forward to witnessing your conquests going forward,” he hummed, rumbling lighter, but still able to be felt through where their chests touched, drawing a purr and a feeling of warmth in response. He had since withdrawn the sense of himself from the Nyarlathi, and both were content to lay there next to their respective conquest.

Black Hat nuzzled in a bit, in a _far_ more mellow mood than he had been earlier that day, and he still felt warmth all through him. He rolled the new addition to the list of his names around in his mind, getting used to the notion that it applied to him. “Mmrrrrr, thank you~” He didn’t often use those words, but if now wasn’t the time, he had no idea what was.

Wait, there was a spot within him that felt familiarly bitter - but it wasn’t _him_. With a start, he remembered Kris, and flushed anew as he realised that she’d probably awoken partway through. The sorcerer on the floor was sitting turned away from them, her soul burning with envy. She was desperately trying to ignore the two of them and failing miserably. _Forgot you were there… How much did you see?_ The query was embarrassed, but also kind of deliberately impolite, as he knew full well she didn’t appreciate being spoken to through minds. _Something you liked?_

She hunched her shoulders a little more and responded irritably, “Ha ha, it is to laugh.” She tried very hard to suppress the flare of embarrassment and unrequited desire, but there they were, plain as day to the Nyarlathi who possessed her soul. At least he wasn’t alone in feeling awkward but there was something rather unsettling about the feelings echoing in her mind besides that flare of mortification.

He’d have to figure out how to deal with that, how to get those feelings away from him. Could he make a barrier in his mind to keep it from leaking through? The separation between them popped up with the completion of his thought, a thicker skin between him and the soul. Ah, that was better. Upon contemplation, he realised that the feeling hadn’t actually been leaking as such, merely too close for comfort, but with a barrier in place, indulging his curiosity was less unpleasant. Her not trusting him didn’t bother him a whit, though - he was used to being both untrusted and earning it.

James laughed silently into his partner for their interactions, coils lazily sliding over the other under the sheet, shifting until he again had a pair of legs, affectionately tangled in Black Hat’s. The lesser horror had enjoyed the feeling of the coils across him, but legs entangling with his own were pleasant as well. He moved to try nuzzling at the other’s neck, still feeling so full of warmth that it felt as though some of it had to escape or he’d burst, in spite of Kris’ bitterness.

With her severe depression filtered out somewhat, he could better see her determination to keep her own mind. This manifested in big ways, like when she’d attacked him earlier, and smaller ways, like her penchant for creating misshapen pottery when surrounded by her wards. She also took pride in what she’d accomplished by making her city peaceful, making it safe for her unknown child. There was quite a web of determination in her, but oh, it was focused on an independence of mind her gift - and the gifting of her soul - denied. How bitterly ironic - no wonder she seemed so tired, could pull off a defeated look so well.

The pride, though, told him she was no empty shell - warped pots, all her own and no soul else’s, and in her city… a child? All of that work, that struggle - _that_ was why? A child she didn’t know? Fortunate child, to be the focus of such devotion. 

She didn’t have relationships with people near to both her heart and her location. It would have been a risk to them, they would be exposed to the same things she would, but would not have the benefit of her additional resilience. Her dearest friend was her brother, a few states over, who had helped her commit suicide after the birth of her child, and provided her with her apartment initially and the first layer of wards there. She rarely communicated with him. Her parents thought her dead, were unaware of her abilities.

The closest thing she had to a friend within the city was her pupil, Raelin, a fiery woman she was training to take up her position as ambassador and enforcer, though decidedly not her powers as well. She hadn’t been born with these powers and wouldn’t be able to resolve them into something coherent in her head if she gained the talent. Further, she had her own child with whom she had a loving relationship, taking up telepathy would ruin her.

He could even tell how interested she was in sex, and how much her interest in keeping her own mind her own played into how little she had. He… actually couldn’t find a single instance where she’d had consensual sex. _Oh_ , and there was the source of her envy… she couldn’t indulge without losing herself, however much she wished to. That explained her reaction. _I wonder whether there’s a way to turn that off…_ Idle curiosity thus far, but he let her hear it nonetheless.

The woman and her soul flushed with frustration and lust, though she remained turned from him. He may have been imagining it for how quickly it was snuffed out, but there may have been a flicker of hope in there somewhere.

“James… Did you give her to me to borrow, or to keep?” While he wasn’t yet sure what he’d do with her, she _had_ been full of information earlier - but if anything was clear to him now, it was that he didn’t want to step on James’ toes.

The elder horror caressed his partner tenderly, “That’s up to you, Black Hat. She is a fun toy, but I have thousands of them,” he punctuated the thought with a kiss. “So long as you invite me over now and again I would be happy to include her in your boon.”

He purred in satisfaction at the pleasant touch. “She’s quite fascinating…” He mused, considering. Oh! A kiss! A little warble spilled past his fangs, and he wondered how the hell that could make him blush after everything else. “I’d appreciate that - how _do_ I invite you over? Is there a particular method?” He asked, before deciding to see if it felt as enjoyable to bestow a kiss as to receive one.

James purred back pleasantly upon his kiss being returned. “Call upon my name, I will hear you. Pray for my company. Your god is not deaf, Neophyte.” 

James’ purring was a warming accompaniment to the indeed-pleasant sensation of returning that kiss, and he listened carefully as the other responded. As simple as calling his name, no need for a ritual? That would make things a lot easier. “I should warn you that I have very little idea of how to religion, but I’ll give it a good go.” He responded, enjoying the warm closeness and the assurance that now, finally, there _was_ someone he could turn to. What now, he wondered? He didn’t particularly want to move yet, but it was occurring to him that he hadn’t a clue what his next step was any more.

“I don’t have many worshippers.” He said casually, nuzzling Black Hat. Not many others? The younger abomination didn’t know why, but that kinda suited him. Not whole droves of people that might be calling on - oh, that was why it suited him, the idea that it meant there would indeed be fewer others calling on James, meaning less likelihood of such things overlapping. That probably didn’t actually matter, but oh well. 

“I’m sure whatever you do will be lovely.” He began playing with the feathers and scales on this partner’s back. Black Hat crooned as he was nuzzled, enjoying the affectionate gesture being paired with the praising assurance he was given. He was about to say something along the lines of intending it to be lovely - perhaps offering to cook dinner sometime, he enjoyed cooking, but he was distracted before he could say anything. The way James was toying with his feathers was rather tickly, and giggling sounds began to escape him, accompanied by slight squirms. His scales weren’t so ticklish, but they felt nice when he touched them.

An idea occurred to him. Had that been a flicker of hope amidst the differing frustrations she held a few moments ago? He couldn’t be certain, but it _could_ give him something to use. Here was someone else on whom isolation had taken a toll, whose own kind would turn on her if they knew what she was. The parallel was uncanny, and it struck him as having potential. Considering how desperate _he’d_ been to have his situation rectified, he was pretty sure Kris would be desperate as well. Hmm… time to dangle a carrot. _How far would you go, if I could turn it off? I can see there’s much you’ve lost to it._

She turned around abruptly with the question, storm cloud eyes staring hard at him. Her soul was in turmoil within him flashing with glimpses of what she’d done already with less hope than he was offering. Theft, torture, arson. She’d killed others to make her city safe, she’d killed herself when she thought that might end things. Hope flared brightly, burning away some of that ever-present depression, no matter how hard she tried to quash it.

She chose her words carefully, though. “I won’t allow your or anyone else to put my child in danger.” She held up a finger, and put another up with her second condition. “I won’t sacrifice my mind or my autonomy.” She didn’t elaborate further than that.

Oooh, and wasn’t _that_ an intense look? He smirked smugly at her, fascinated and entertained by the flashes of her deliciously darker acts in the faint hope of silencing the clamour of other minds against hers. Some, distinctly less so, but those only served to underline how very absolutely desperate she was for this boon. He listened, a brow quirked, as she listed her conditions, only two - but he could sense her unyieldingness on those points. _Hmm… how versed are you in writing contracts? You did make a good point before, about having a city as a base of operations… and who better to assist in manipulations than a literal and successful ambassador/enforcer?_

Kristy quirked an eyebrow and gave him a wry look. “I’m as versed in writing contracts as anyone in my city.” The turmoil had settled into something much more manageable. She was in her element negotiating terms, she’d just never really done so on her own behalf before. She seemed irritated that he kept insisting on speaking in her head instead of out loud, but she held her own tongue on that. “I’ll draw something up. I hope you don’t mind ritual enforcement. The court system, arbitration and monetary compensation tend not to understand or be effective with such matters,” she stated dryly. She seemed to have a spell in mind that might even do some harm to eldritch abominations such as Black Hat if they failed to live up to their end of the contract.

He was amused by her irritation, but he did actually have a reason for continuing to speak in her head, apart from spite - it helped him keep separate the conversations he was having. Ooh, so if he did require a return of telepathy from her for a while, he could wrangle it without having to force the issue? That could be fun to dangle over her. _Ritual? What you say makes sense, but I’d be a fool to agree without knowing more about said ritual._ Particularly considering he wasn’t sure whether that spell she had in mind would affect him - even now. He’d have to think on it.

“So you would.” She commented dryly.

The elder abomination seemed to have had enough of the after care at this point, and reality shifted again. “Have fun with your boon!” Black Hat squeaked as he felt reality shift again, registering both the playful tone and the words as both room and James melted into nothing again, leaving him starkers in the open air of the scrubland. In hindsight, he really should have expected a prank like that, but it didn’t stop him from feeling momentarily bereft. Well. He could always invite James over sometime, now. Black Hat’s clothes were scattered around in the same constellation he’d left them in, and Black Hat was, instead of laying a few feet off the ground on a plush bed, was laying in the dust, in the shade of a thorn bush. 

Kris cocked an eyebrow at his naked form, tactfully refraining from laughing out loud.

The echo of laughter in Kris’ thoughts drew a sour look from him, and he wasted no time in pulling his clothes back onto himself, glaring at her as if daring her to comment.

“And so you know, I’m not going to speak to you if you don’t speak to me. I have a reputation as a respectable mage with control over her own soul to uphold.” His glare didn’t seem to faze her at all. _Wouldn’t dream of it,_ came her amused thoughts.


End file.
